#an: AKA he was a talented admiral but his social skills were terrible and God exploited his lack of social skills

[lysmune]

Aquarium Date

      Levi spends a day in the human realm with you.

(Leviathan/MC) For Levi’s birthday

     Akihabara is the obvious answer behind the portal you’ve dragged him through, but he’s taken aback when that’s not where both of you end up in.

     Nope.

     Instead, he finds himself surrounded by a throng of normies, loud, clamoring groups of them that huddle in a line that moves as quickly as it’s replaced, an endless conveyor belt of people.

     “This isn’t Akihabara,” he weakly manages and you shake your head.

     “Nope, it’s the aquarium,” you answer and he’s not quite sure if he likes the sound of that, but he’s a little less jittery when you squeeze his hand. “You okay, Levi?”

     “Just,” he starts, eyes darting between you and the landscape of faces; “a lot of normies.”

     He flushes red when your fingers lace his. “Hey,” you call out, his gaze averting to meet yours. “We can always go to Akihabara if you’re more comfortable with that.”

     He warms at your gesture, the consideration in your invitation, and he’s more than tempted to take you up on your offer. Akihabara would be a dream for him, rows and rows of his favourite manga on display, so many figurines and anime, and Ruri-chan merch. That’d be perfect, yep!

     “No, let’s go in,” he asserts and your lips curl, soft in the morning sunlight as you tug him towards the line.

     Akihabara would be perfect, no doubt, but it’d be perfect just for him, and that’s not the birthday he wants. No, he wants a day that’s perfect for the both of you, a birthday where you’re enjoying yourself, too.

     You’d never say it, but he knows you’re not a massive otaku like he is, so he takes it upon himself today. It’s the least he can do after you’ve gone out of your way to surprise him.

     Besides, an aquarium would be fun (sans the normies).

     Amongst the aquamarine haze, the undulating blues bobbing across the floor, Levi finds himself at peace, more so than he’d ever thought he would be. Hand in hand, you walk with him through the various tanks, stopping every so often to admire the undersea creatures.

     “Look, Levi,” and he follows the line of your sight towards the cylindrical tank, to the gliding bioluminescence inside the waters.

     “Moon jellyfish,” he identifies, pressing his palm to the cold glass. They coalesce around him in response, glowing in the darkness, and he hears you let out a breath of wonder; he smiles.

     They follow the tip of his finger as he leads them in circles, straight lines and patterns, their tendrils a flickering, remnant trail. When he stops, they do too, resting, pulsing with light. He stays like that for a moment before he pulls away and they scatter into the confines of their home.

     “They seem to really like you,” you muse, and he shrugs, slightly embarrassed when he’s snapped out of the daze.

     He scratches the back of his neck, awkward and sheepish. “I was an admiral.”

     Not that he’s ever liked the title. Sure, it had given him power and respect, but all he can remember is the envy in their eyes, the contempt, the curling, forked ends of unspoken insults. He remembers the cold, ruthless isolation of being at the top and the way he clung to the only thing he knew how to do with desperation.

     He dislikes it all.

     “Levi?”

     Your voice brings him back, concern pulling the corners of your lips into a frown and clouding your eyes.

     “It’s nothing,” he replies, waving it off, though you’re not so convinced; you let it slide anyway.

     Still, if being able to communicate with marine life could make you smile like that, maybe that past of his isn’t so unbearable after all.

     The touch pools are an experience, Levi concludes. Like a swarm of overzealous otakus trying to get a limited edition merch of their favourite character, the critters come at him in troves and variable speeds. He thinks it’s cute, though the normies might say otherwise.

     “He’s just like Aquaman!” he hears a boy squeal, and he hears you laugh beside him, though you’re trying to stifle it down.

     “What’s it?” he asks.

     “Aquaman’s a superhero,” you respond as you drag your hand through the water lazily, petting the nearby manta ray that’s busy trying to make its way to his hand.

     Oh. He supposes it is ridiculous that he’d be viewed as a superhero, as a character of justice. He doesn’t really fit the image of it; aren’t they usually well-built and fit, and handsome, and charismatic? That’s more Lucifer than -

     “I think it suits you,” comes your easy answer and he blushes red to the tip of his ears, muffling an embarrassed noise, and you’re chuckling again.

     “W-what makes you s-say that?” he stutters out, lips pulling into a frown as he strokes the shell of hermit crab. You shrug.

     “You’re always kind, for one,” you start. He leans in closer to listen while you continue. “You’re passionate about what you like, you’re reliable when you need to be, and I think, most importantly, you’re someone I can easily put my trust in.”

     And he’s averting his eyes away, biting his bottom lip, his free hand coming up to cover his face as he mumble a muffled ‘thank you’. His heart’s going a mile a minute, but when he peeks at you between fingers and you look back, that smile of yours never once faltering, he can’t help but feel seen, appreciated, loved, even.

     He doesn’t protest when your fingers curl around his, when you pull his hand down to reveal the blush of him and bump shoulders. This - being with you, liking you, having you return his affections - is something he’s never imagined happening, not just because he’s, well, him, but also because it’s just a feeling he’s never garnered from the people around him.

     Yet here you are, admiring the very skills he’s been so hated for.

     “I like you,” he mutters and you look up to him, eyes wide. Without hesitation, he repeats himself. “I like you.”

     There’s a heartbeat of silence, then, a genuine, confident, “I like you, too.”

     “No trip is complete without getting souvenirs,” you chirp as the exit comes to sight, and Levi nods in agreement. Merch is everything and he’d like to leave the aquarium with more than just memories, even if that’s greedy of him.

     Ugh, I sound like Mammon now.

     He digresses.

     Passing by the shelves, all filled to the brim, he takes in the variety of options. From keychains, to notepads, to cute casings and fluffy plushies, and embroidered hats; the possibilities are truly endless.

     It’s the graphic tees that catch his eye, though.

     “Matching shirts?” comes your startling question.

     He nods, then shrugs, then stuffs his free hand into his jacket’s pocket. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.”

     “What makes you think I’m against the idea?” you retort with a grin and before he knows it, you’re tugging him along to the rack of clothes.

     Both of you rummage through your options and you’re occasionally bringing one up to model over yourself, which makes it harder on him because he thinks you’d look good in all of them, and he makes it known. You roll your eyes, calling it banal flattery, but the glimmer in your gaze tells him otherwise.

     “What about this one?” Levi asks as he pulls a light blue shirt with a picture of a content whale, tucked into the shirt pocket and the words BRB, I’m gonna whale underneath.

     You can barely stop yourself from chuckling at the sight, wheezing out an, “Oh, that’s perfect,” when he brings it up over him.

     It comes in two other colours, white and peach, and you settle on the blue while he grabs the pink one in his respective size. He wanders around with you through the entirety of the space in search of more things to take home, ending up with a jellyfish keychain and a clownfish decal while you pick up a seal plushie.

     After a losing squabble, Levi lets you pay for the entirety. “Consider it a gift,” you smile, taking the paper bag with a tilt of your head before you make your way out of the shop.

     Sunset streaks the sky in orange and purple, and he’s transfixed by the beauty of you when the colours paint you rich and honeyed. Both of you start to retrace your steps to the portal, blending in with the dispersing crowd and he feels comfortingly normal.

     “Should I carry that?” he asks as you trudge back up a hill, tilting his head towards your bag.

     You shrug and hand it over. “Sure, it’s all yours anyways.”

     “Didn’t you buy a -“

     “Seal plush?” you finish. He nods while your eyes crinkle in giddy. “It’s yours.”

     “Hah?!”

     You shrug. “I wanted you to have something to remember me by,” you reply and he stops dead in his tracks, blood running cold.

     “Are you leaving?”

     “No! God, no, Levi,” you answer, closing the minimal distance between the two of you. He’s close enough to smell your body wash now. “I just want you to never feel alone, Levi, and maybe I’m being selfish when I say I want you to think of me while you look at it, but I hope it gives you company if I can’t, at any point in time.”

     And he’s pulling you to him before he knows it, lips pressing yours in a kiss that clings like salt to the ocean breeze. You sigh into it, pliant in his arms as his fingers flutter over your cheek, your hands resting around his waist.

     He pulls away ever just and he sees that you’re the one flushed over now, and a sense of pride wells up in him when he finds his reflection in your eyes.

     “Thank you,” he mumbles, cradling you as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

     “For what?” you question, giggling.

     “For today,” he answers, but that’s not quite it, that’s not quite enough. “For believing in me, for being you, for everything.”

     “Always, Levi,” and he knows, with every inch of him, that you mean it.